Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Ian Grimble and Richard Matthews of Communion Music at 2KHz, Crouch End, London
There's something so come-hither about the way that Katherine Whitaker of Evans The Death sings that it makes you doubt yourself.
You doubt that you're hearing any of it correctly. You couldn't possibly be right. She's sweetness, but you suspect that there's a jagged edge waiting for you to slip up.
But then you start listening more closely and you start to wonder who's coming hither and who's proposing what to whom. You're neither hither nor thither. It's all such a puzzler. You feel like you've gotten it all wrong and that you should just sit down for a minute, close your eyes and try to get ahold of yourself. You're fairly certain that someone's getting ahead of him or herself and this could be just what the devil wants out of today.
Whitaker sings about her coffee being over there on the dresser, likely getting cold, is the thought that immediately comes to mind. She sings, "When you melt me with your bedroom eyes," and you realize that you're breathing some rarefied air, that you're standing in such a guarded place that you're bound to fuck it up. She'll kick you out of there in a heartbeat and she'll take her coffee alone, sooner rather than later. It's not going to last because people have such a damned hard time making anything last, especially when they really want it to. They're cursed that way. There will be lies and deception and it could come from anywhere. She goes on to sing, "I just don't trust myself," and the feeling's mutual.
Evans The Death Official Site